


A Well Read Mind

by Defira



Series: Kink in the Armor [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2284998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As part of the Kink in the Armor writing relay, I was given the second prompt: Cullen is wary of both mages and qunari, but what about a qunari mage?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Well Read Mind

He’d had his fill of qunari back in Kirkwall- or so he’d thought. 

Cullen had spent three years walking past their compound by the docks on his way to the Chantry in Hightown, three years of feeling the flat disdain of their gaze on his back, three unpleasant and hostile years culminating in one of the greatest acts of savagery and barbarism he’d ever been witness to. 

Qunari, he had found, were brutish, uncultured heathens with no respect for anything but their own agenda. 

And then of course, as if to test his resolve, the Maker had placed him in the service of a qunari. A mage too, unbound by any Circle and outside the word of the Chant. Outside even the word of her own people, although even he had to draw the line at the violently sadistic way the Qunari treated their mages. 

The Inquisition and hope of Thedas, in the hands of a qunari mage- a year ago, even a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have believed it possible. He wouldn't have even been able to comprehend such an idea, and would have laughed it off with a private note to himself to remain wary around any who would consider such a possibility as plausible.

How things could change in such a short time. 

It was a balmy evening, and restlessness had driven him to leave his quarters in search of a distraction. He wasn’t sure what it was he needed to be distracted _from_ , just that he was too preoccupied for sleep and too fidgety to sit and attempt to wade through the endless reports piling up on his desk. 

His feet carried him out to the main courtyard, walking briskly despite not having a destination in mind, and he found himself climbing up onto the outer ramparts, nodding in greeting to the soldiers on watch as they called his name respectfully. The world beyond the keep was dark, the reach of the torches almost insultingly short. In the distance, a constant portent of doom, the green slash in the sky glowed ominously, weaving and flickering softly like the lights that appeared in the sky in more southerly climes.

But you couldn't look at the tear in the Veil for more than a few minutes, lest it turn your stomach in some unspoken acknowledgment of the utter horrifying _wrongness_ of it. He doubted the lights to the south had such an effect. 

Turning away with a grimace, a flicker of movement at the edge of his peripheral caught his attention and he glanced towards it, half expecting to see one of the numerous camp mongrels trotting off into the darkness with a stolen boot. Instead he stiffened in suspicion as he spotted a cloaked figure ducking in and out of the shadows as they made way along the inner perimeter of the keep.

He almost called out a warning, his hand going automatically to his belt where he normally tied his scabbard- only to remember a moment later he'd left it in his quarters. The momentary distraction was enough for the figure to duck through another puddle of light, and for recognition to strike him a breath later.

It wasn't hard to guess the identity of the shadowed figure- there were very few qunari amongst the ranks of the Inquisition, and her attempt at tossing a cloak over her head did very little to disguise her elegantly tapered horns poking up from beneath the fabric. It was an odd feature to admire- potentially lethal protrusions had never figured prominently in what he found admirable- but there was a certain majesty in the way she wore hers.

Not particularly discreet, however; she was not a woman for which the word subtle would ever be applicable. 

She hadn’t seen him, and he did not point her out to the men on the watch. Instead he stood stock still in the shadow of the tower, following her progress along the edge of the inner wall, watching as she clambered over some of the broken masonry before sliding through a fissure in the ancient stone.

He frowned- large swathes of the keep were still unfit for habitation, and some areas were quite dangerous to the unwary. While he didn't doubt that she was immensely capable of looking after herself, the fact remained that she'd gone alone into a dangerous ruin at night.

And old habits died hard, after all- as much as he despised the title and fought to free himself of that legacy, he was templar trained. A mage creeping about at night with an obvious need to be unobserved was not something he could just ignore.

_It was for her own safety,_ he told himself as he bid the watchmen goodnight and followed the rampart until there was a place where it was safe to jump down. He’d never forgive himself if he turned a blind eye to this peculiar midnight escapade, only to find come the morning that she’d tripped and fallen down a crumbling stairwell and had broken her neck. 

It wasn’t at all because he was suspicious, he told himself as he hurried across the open ground to the inner wall and picked his way carefully through the same treacherous rubble.

He certainly wasn’t curious- about her, of course. 

Most decidedly not. 

He reached the fissure in the wall, silently admiring her ability to slip through such a gap without difficulty- he couldn't imagine trying to twist through such a narrow stoneway with horns to contend with. He drew a breath and slid in sideways, feeling the raw edges of the stone scrape at his elbows. The walls of the keep were quite substantial, wider across than the span of his arms, and he grimaced, feeling his shirt catch and tear as he wriggled his way through to the other side. 

The ruin beyond was dark, the only light trickling in from the broken roof tiles three floor above him through rotten floorboards; he stopped for a moment to get his bearings and let his eyes adjust to the darkness, conscience of every tiny sound echoing up through the abandoned corridors. He’d emerged into what appeared to have at one point been a storeroom, and he very cautiously made his way to the door and peered carefully around the doorway. The corridor was empty in both directions; there was no indication as to which way she'd gone, and he didn't fancy just blundering around in the murk trying not to alert her to his presence. 

Cullen grimaced.

He rubbed his thumbs over his eyes, brow furrowed as he concentrated. It wasn't a trick he'd thought to use again in his lifetime, and certainly not against _her_ \- but as he gritted his teeth and willed the answer to reveal itself, he felt a slight tug from off to the left. It wasn't quite sound and it wasn't quite a physical response, but it was enough- there was a mage nearby, down the sloping corridor to the left. 

Following his lyrium honed senses, the presence grew clearer as he crept down the hall, easing himself carefully past each open doorway- the wood of the doors long since having rotted away- until he noticed a subtle flare of light spilling out from one at the end of the . passage.

_Success._

He crept forward as quickly as he dared, making sure that his feet made next to no sound on the rubble strewn ground; flattening himself against the wall beside the door, he very slowly eased himself up to the edge and then glanced around the corner. 

What he saw made him blink in surprise. 

He’d grown used to Ceren Adaar’s quirks in the few months that he’d served her, but this was not at all what he’d been expecting. She’d pushed aside the worst of the rubble to clear the room, and had somehow managed to procure a table and a single chair and cart it down here- clearly there was still a stairwell in serviceable condition somewhere that she’d made use of. The room showed signs of frequent use, from the cloak tossed almost absently on the floor to the extra shoes stacked in the corner to the pile of used tin plates and mugs stacked together at the end of the table. She’d obviously had this little lair for a few weeks now, and had been making frequent use of it. 

More than that, the room was piled high with _books_ , of all things. There had to be at least three dozen, easily, stacked on the floor and piled on the table and just generally lying about haphazardly. 

The keep already had a library, and she had her own quarters upstairs, so why the secrecy? 

Ceren hadn’t noticed him, Maker be praised, and he watched her as she got herself settled. She was in the process of lighting candles, going around the room to the wall sconces and breathing out gently until the wicks suddenly burst into life. It almost looked like she was blowing kisses at them, and that sudden burst of imagery startled him. 

She’d already set aside her cloak and shoes, and when she stretched languidly, arms reaching above her head, his pulse surged as her shirt rode up slightly, enough for him to see the briefest flash of skin.

He slid back around the wall, pressing his head back against the stone as he stared at the roof in bewilderment. Granted, he’d been expecting something significantly more nefarious than a reading nook when he’d followed her, so he was a little off kilter at uncovering how utterly bland the truth was, but that was no reason to immediately jump to erotic thoughts now, was it?

_Was it?_

He heard her sigh contentedly, and he frowned at himself for indulging in such foolishness. When he risked looking back into the room, she’d settled herself at the table, her feet resting on a pile of books- _Maker but she had large feet_ \- as she balanced another one in her lap, relaxed and clearly carefree as she hummed quietly to herself. 

Cullen felt himself soften towards her, seeing her so unguarded. Did she fear that she would be judged for her clearly voracious desire to read, assumed to be nothing but another horned barbarian? Was it simply that she wanted to carve out a space that was definitively hers, somewhere to escape to?

She giggled suddenly, a sound he hadn’t expected from her, and he found himself blinking in surprise at how the sound made her seem so much younger. There was colour in her cheeks, a flush that was slowly travelling down her neck, and as he watched from the shadows her eyes widened and she giggled again, muffling the sound behind her hand. 

She licked her finger to turn the page, and he was surprised by the corresponding surge of heat within him. It was an innocent gesture, not intended to be provocative, but perhaps he was already off balance at seeing her like this. 

He was intruding, he realised that now. She was relaxed and unreserved, content in the assumption that she was alone, and he had no right to-

She set the book down momentarily on the table and reached back to pull her hair free of its tie, combing her fingers through it to work out the tangles. Her hair was longer than he had realised, given that she normally kept it tightly braided, and he realised after a moment that he was holding his breath. Her hair was naturally curled, and spilled over her shoulders in waves that immediately drew to mind a desire to see it falling down over her bared skin, or spread out like a halo on sheets...

He bit back a curse at the last moment and twisted out of sight again, pressing his hand to his forehead as he fought to calm his racing heartbeat. This was... alright, it wasn’t _unexpected_ , she was a remarkably striking woman, even if he hadn’t ever thought to find his head turned by a qunari, but this was unseemly. He had to leave, before he intruded any further on her privacy. 

She deserved that from him, at the very least. If he couldn’t even offer her respect, there wasn’t much point in considering offering anything further. 

He risked one more glance around the corner, just to convince himself that she was both safe and up to no mischief. 

Ceren had settled again, the book on her lap and her eyes darting back and forth as she followed the lines of text on the page. She bit her lip, her tongue darting out to soothe the sting a moment later, and he realised suddenly that she was _aroused_. The colour in her cheeks, the giggles, the jittery way she was acting- whatever it was she was up to had her blood heated, and more than that he found the knowledge that she was aroused to be intensely erotic.

Her saw her lips moving, and realised too late from the answering tug in his veins that she was whispering a spell to herself, her finger tracing the line of the page as she committed it to memory. 

What he absolutely was not expecting was to feel the touch of phantom lips, pressed first to his stomach and then moving down, down past his belt to-

He let out a shout, scrambling backwards in a panic, and the sensation vanished instantly.

Around the corner he heard her gasp in fright, followed by what sounded like several books falling onto the floor in rapid succession. “Who’s there?” she called, her voice higher pitched in her moment of fear. “Show yourself.”

His blood still pounding loudly in his ears from the unexpected thrill of, _well_... what he’d felt briefly, he gritted his teeth and stepped into the doorway. There was no point to concealing his presence any longer, not after what had just happened. 

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were plump where she’d been biting them; with her hair loose and dishevelled, she looked like she could have come straight from a secret tryst. She’d knocked over a goodly portion of her books when he’d startled her, but interestingly she’d haphazardly piled a few more on top of the tome she’d had open on the table. 

Her eyes widened when she spotted him, and she glanced furtively at the table. “General,” she said quickly, “may I ask what it is you are doing down here in the ruins?”

“I might ask you the same question,” he said, his voice huskier than he meant it to be. He saw her swallow nervously as she glanced to the side again, saw the way her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lips. 

“I like to read,” she said, somewhat defensively, “and I like my privacy. Books are a luxury I am not yet accustomed to and I like to- take my time with them.”

When she glanced down again, his patience snapped. “What exactly are you reading?”

“Nothing,” she said instantly, her hand rather obviously trying to push more books back on top of the open one.

It was enough to push his suspicions over the edge. He stalked into the room and up to the table, trying to reach past her to push aside the books she had quickly stacked over the spellbook.

“No, _don’t_ ,” she said urgently, grabbing at his arm to stop him. 

The stack fell aside without much prompting and he found himself staring down at vaguely familiar Tevene lettering and-

\- and lovingly illustrated depictions of numerous sexual positions, complete with expressions of ecstasy on the faces of the participants, a number of which he would not have even considered physically possible before seeing them rendered with such exquisite care. 

It even included helpful little arrows, as if to indicate in which direction the rather enthusiastic participants should move for best results. 

She lurched past him and snatched the book up off the table, clutching it to her chest with a wild look in her eyes. “You were _spying_ on me!” she said angrily, her voice rising. 

The contents of the book had thrown him off balance, his cheeks still burning. “What am I supposed to think, when you creep about and mutter spells in secret?” 

“I was-” She spat out some qunari word he did not understand, her cheeks reddening even as she glared at him. “You have _seen_ what I was reading- how could you possibly think...”

He went to push past her, and she grabbed him, spinning him about and pinning him against the table. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against his cheek as she whispered a complicated phrase in Tevene softly into his ear. 

The effect was instantaneous- he gasped in surprise at the ripple of pleasure that slid through him, jerking forward against her. She, in turn, made a startled noise and jumped backwards, her face reddening even further. 

Panting, he leaned against the table, slightly fearful that his legs would wobble treacherously beneath him if he tried to storm out. “What did you do to me?”

“It’s a _sex_ book,” she said somewhat desperately, the look on her face saying she would rather be anywhere in the world than having this conversation. “It’s the Magicka Erotica- a _sex_ book, a _magic_ sex book, _it’s a sex book you daft ass I cannot make this anymore clear than I already have._ ”

That was abundantly clear, of course, but how could he backtrack in a way that would salvage even a fraction of his pride? “I didn’t give you permission to use magic upon my person!” he snapped, the heat in his veins refusing to settle.

“And I didn’t give you permission to _spy_ on me!” she retorted, looming over him. “You clearly suspected me of wrong doing, and how else am I supposed to prove my innocence without providing evidence as to what I was _actually_ doing?”

“And you felt the book itself would not suffice?”

She faltered, guilt and desire warring in her eyes. “Perhaps I’ve not had the opportunity to test the contents on- on anyone other than myself,” she said, stumbling over the words a little.

_Anyone other than herself_ \- Maker, had she sat down her in the darkness and done that to herself? Had she whispered lecherous things into the air and then shuddered and cried out as the magic riled her to a fever pitch?

His cock seemed to fancy that idea, his breeches abruptly too tight. 

Her eyes widened, and he saw her gaze flick down to his mouth. Almost out of instinct, he licked his lips.

She let out a sound of frustration and then grabbed at him, the book falling to the floor as her hands gathered up great fistsfuls of his shirt; she hauled him forward and crushed her mouth against his. 

She was immensely strong- he had a brief moment of clear thinking before lust overwhelmed him, wondering if she realised how much stronger she was- and she pinned him back against the table, kissing him with a desperation that spoke of hunger that had been building unfed for weeks. He groaned as she rolled her hips against his, and she took advantage of the lapse to slide her tongue between his lips, rhythmically coaxing his own tongue with hers. 

“If you’ve a mind to leave,” she said against his mouth, “do it now.”

He hissed out slowly when she pressed herself against him. “I don’t want to leave,” he said.

She pulled away ever so slightly, just enough for him to see the triumphant desire in her eyes. “Good,” she said, pushing him backwards onto the table. “Now take off your clothes.”

He fumbled to comply, getting halfway out of his shirt when he felt her hands slide up his thighs; he gasped and she giggled, the sound slightly at odds with the domineering air she was attempting to project. He got his head clear of the fabric just as she planted her hand flat against his stomach and pushed him onto his back, her fingers tracing downwards to the laces of his breeches. 

He shuddered and closed his eyes, certain reason would reassert itself any moment now and he would come to his senses. But he could not think of any reason not to be there, so he lifted his hips as she peeled the last of his clothing away, shucking his breeches and his small clothes in one swift motion. 

His cock sprang free, and he held his breath as she leaned over him, letting out a strangled groan as she gently traced a single clawed finger along his length. 

"Your clothes...?" he said awkwardly, wildly self conscious as he lay naked and erect in the middle of the table, like some treat for her. Although the idea was tantalising in itself, he certainly wasn't bold enough to ask it of her.

Ceren's expression was unreadable, but her smile was nothing short of devious. "What about my clothes?" she asked, her hand tracing lower; he gasped and bucked upwards when she gently squeezed his balls.

"Aren't you, well..."

She giggled again. "Cat got your tongue?" she asked, finally letting him go. "Shame- I had such plans for it."

He propped himself up on his elbows and watched as she eased her breeches down her hips, a hint of dark hair visible beneath the hem of her shirt as she stepped out of the puddle of fabric, and then-

She climbed over him, a hungry smile on her face as she braced herself on hands and knees above him. She didn’t say anything as she took him by the wrist and stretched his arm up above his head, leaning in close. “Are you afraid of me because I’m a mage, or because I’m qunari?” she whispered; a moment later he felt the sizzle of magic around his wrist and his hand was pinned to the table. He could have resisted when she reached for the other, but...

... but it was far more thrilling to let her do it, to lie beneath her and at her mercy, seeing the way her eyes darkened with lust when he accepted her control. 

“I’ve... I’ve never been with a qunari before,” he said, his breath coming quickly as he felt her bare skin against his.

“And I’ve never slept with a human,” she countered as she straddled his waist, eyes hooded as she rubbed herself along his cock, panting softly. “So don’t worry, you’re not the only one trying out something exotic tonight.”

He groaned and bucked up against her, his hands still bound to the table by the magical constraints. “I never said-”

“You didn’t have to,” she said, running her hands over his bare chest as she rocked backwards and forwards over his hips, a taunting precursor to what was to come. “I’m well aware of what human men think of me, and I’ve seen you watching me often enough to know you’ve thought it too.”

“Any man who would think as such is undeserving of your attention.”

“So you haven’t heard the stories about qunari girls who can crush a man’s dick with the strength of her muscles alone?” Even the mere suggestion of it made his cock wilt a little, and she smirked knowingly, not quite able to hide the flicker of hurt in her eyes. “I know what human men think of me, Cullen, so please don’t insult me by lying to me.”

“You think I am only interested in my pleasure,” he said, thinking quickly. “You think this would be a simple fact of a quick rut for the sake of bragging rights.”

“Isn’t it?”

He groaned as she pressed herself down onto his cock, not taking him into her body but she barely had to at that point- the silken feel of her, her heat and the moistness, was enough to have his head fall back against the table, gritting his teeth to keep control. “Let me prove otherwise,” he panted, almost pleading as he stared up at her. “ _Please_.”

“I’m not letting you have your hands back.”

He glanced downwards, down to where their bodies lay flush together, licking his lips without intending to, and she whimpered quietly. “It doesn’t have to be my hands,” he said hoarsely.

Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip; he felt the way her thighs tightened around his hips momentarily, and then she grinned. “Alright,” she said breathlessly, crawling slowly up his body, teasing them both as she took her time to straddle his shoulders. 

He all but lunged upwards as she settled over him, his mouth seeking out the prize at the juncture of her thighs. She squeaked and squirmed backwards a little, giggling awkwardly. “Over eager, much?” she asked, her voice trembling, as she inched back down over him. 

He couldn’t really offer a rebuttal, muffled as he was between her thighs, so he answered by nuzzling upwards, kissing open mouthed against her exposed flesh. She moaned, her eyes darkening, and he felt the way her thighs tensed momentarily beside his ears. But she did not squirm out of reach this time, and he counted that as a point in his favour. 

It was harder without hands, but he traced the shape of her with his tongue, tasting her slowly and making note of the places where she shuddered and where her breath caught and where she gasped and where she wriggled. He found the firm little nub hidden between her folds and kissed it, watching the way her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth hung open as she panted shallowly. That at least was the same as human women.

When he pulled away slightly she whimpered, the sound amusingly frustrated. “Take your shirt off,” he rasped, and when she looked down sharply at him, he added “please?”

“I’m the one giving the orders here,” she said, but the way her body shifted and relaxed a moment later gave her away.

“ _Please_ take your shirt off?”

She stared down at him for a moment longer, and he took advantage of the situation to kiss her intimately again, not breaking eye contact as he ran his tongue in a slow circle around her clit. He saw her chin quiver as she panted, saw the resolve break in her, and she groaned in defeat, reaching down to the bottom hem of the shirt and shucking it up over her head in one jerky motion. 

She was _magnificent_ \- broad shoulders and narrow hips, small breasts and thick thighs. Her hair spilled down over her bare shoulders just as he had imagined it might, and he couldn’t help his appreciative groan; he saw the apprehension in her face, the hint of uncertainty, and he knew that he could not let it stay.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, before burying his head between her thighs again, watching as she shuddered and squirmed above him, panting faster and faster as he suckled and stroked and teased. 

He had meant for it to be a sign of trust on his part, offering her pleasure without expecting it in return- so what she did next took him by surprise. 

She licked her lips and began to recite the spell from earlier, stuttering once or twice and gasping even more as he distracted her with his mouth. She ran one hand up into her hair, eyes closed as she began to move rhythmically to the motions of his teasing, panting softly in between the words. He was not fluent enough in Tevene to recognise any of it, but he certainly felt the swelling magic, the tug of power in his veins, and then-

He gasped, his hips arching up off the table as he felt the unmistakable touch of lips to his exposed belly, feather light kisses tracing down the curve of his hip and lower. Ceren giggled shakily, the sound trailing off to a gasp as he thrust his tongue as deeply into her as he could reach. 

There was more than one mouth now, all of them slow and teasing. He could feel the way they smiled against his skin, silent laughter as they pressed kisses over his belly and thighs and he moaned when he felt them move lower. Above him, Ceren had closed her eyes, riding his face with a rhythm that was slowly growing more erratic, her free hand moving over her thigh while her other was still tangled in her hair. 

_Beautiful._

A phantom mouth closed over his cock and he groaned, his hips bucking upwards; a tongue traced between his legs, teasing over sensitive places before sliding towards his ass. Another dotted kisses over his belly, while the lightest touch of teeth grazed his nipple. It was an endless onslaught of sensations, and every time he jerked in surprise at one, another two whispered over his skin to tease and taunt him. 

Ceren was lost, gasping and whimpering as she ground herself down onto him. She was trembling, shaking, and he could scarcely breathe- but he did not stop, lapping up the taste of her, kissing her and devouring her and fucking her with his tongue...

He could feel the orgasm, when it took her- she let out a strangled, choking noise, eyes snapping open as if she were surprised by it, the groan stretching out into a desperate wail. He felt her spasm under his tongue, felt the way her muscles locked around his ears, felt the richer, deeper taste of her as she came.

It was all he needed to follow after her, grunting and stiffening as the phantom mouths took him over the edge; he felt the hot splatter of his seed as it landed on his stomach, and the teasing sweep of a tongue over the head of his cock had him groaning, the shudders making him plant his feet against the table while he rode it out. 

Ceren settled back, resting on his chest to give him room to breathe; they stared at each other, both struggling to calm their heartbeats and their breathing, he still with his hands magically bound above his head and she very probably sitting on his seed. 

He wasn’t sure which one of them laughed first, looking back at it later, but he remembered the way she bit her lip to keep from giggling, while colour blossomed in her cheeks. And then they were both sniggering like teenagers, and then they were howling with laughter until Ceren was wiping tears away from her eyes. She shuffled backwards awkwardly, apparently unconcerned with the fact that the movement smeared his cum over her thighs and stomach, and then plopped down over him, propping her head up on her hand beside his. 

He tried not to feel self conscious about that; although he supposed she had just as much of a right to feel self conscious too, given that his face was dripping with the evidence of her orgasm. 

She pulled a face, something that he imagined was supposed to look bashful or at least apologetic. “Sorry?” she said awkwardly, reaching up with her free hand to wipe his chin for him. “I wasn’t- that really was a spur of the moment thing, just now. I wasn’t, like, down here plotting your seduction or-”

“No, I’m sorry,” he said, trying not to blush as she reached up and pulled a dark curled hair away from his lip, flicking it to the side. “I really shouldn’t have intruded. The fault is entirely mine.”

She laughed once, her expression softening. “Are all human men as inept at bedroom talk as you are?” she asked, running her finger down the curve of his jaw. “Or did I just luck out entirely?”

He groaned, the blush inevitable. “It’s not my strongest suit,” he said. 

Ceren’s smile was a rather polite version of what he’d expected from her. “I suppose I should let you out of those restraints now,” she said, a tinge of colour in her own cheeks. “I’m sure you’ve got better places to be than slumming in the basement with me.”

“Who’s not subtle now?”

She laughed, ducking her head in embarrassment. “I was trying to give you a polite out, you ass,” she said. 

Cullen licked his lips, the taste of her still in his mouth. “Well, I mean, correct me if I’m wrong but... doesn’t that- that _book_ have other pages?”

Her eyes widened, and she smirked. “I do like a man with a thirst for knowledge.”


End file.
